


Wrong Number

by Anaredrina



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil (Movieverse)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, F/M, Modern Era, NSFW, Oblivious Leon S. Kennedy, Post-Resident Evil 6, Reader-Insert, Romance, Rule 34, Young adult Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anaredrina/pseuds/Anaredrina
Summary: Your dirty, filthy text ended up somewhere it shouldn't have. Leon's phone. He feels compelled to investigate...
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Reader, Leon S. Kennedy/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	Wrong Number

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to take place with 'modern Leon', so he would be 43 here as of 2020.

* * *

This all started with a text sent to the wrong number when you were drunk out of your mind. 

“I want leon fhcn me up and rijn me” translated to I want Leon to fuck me up and ruin me.

We can already assume who the text WASN'T meant for but yet it reached him. Because you were- you guessed it- drunk. 

When Leon's phone vibrated and saw your number, saved as “y/n work”, his heart skipped a beat. He was sitting at home, alone, probably about to jerk off or something and then go to bed, all alone and lonely. He had a little crush on you but felt the age difference was inappropriate and he felt ashamed for feeling that way. You obviously didn't, based on what you just said. He had no idea. 

His heart skipped a few more beats when he read the message and deciphered it. He knew you were drunk right away; being a self studied expert in drunken texts, mostly analyzing his own, and wondering why the hell he sent them in his drunken stupor.

He had two questions for you though. One, who the hell was this actually meant for? And second, is the offer still standing?

While he was amused he was also worried. He knew that maybe half of the times when you got drunk, you were totally helpless and off the rails. He knew where you lived and only stopped by once to take you home from a bar one night after work, and he spent the night with you in your bed no less and holding on to you, because he couldn't let you wander around your house breaking stuff and almost breaking your own bones slipping and falling or tripping over various objects. Waking up in his arms was very awkward for sure, but you understood where he was coming from. But that little incident made you wish that he'd be your boyfriend even more. 

Despite the feelings he had he couldn't bring himself to make a definitive move on you though, especially not when you're drunk and he's sober. And he would try his best to keep himself on a leash, but he felt like he should still investigate, so he threw his joggers back on and grabbed his t-shirt he just took off a few minutes ago. He navigated across town at godspeed; somehow avoiding a ticket with his relentless and reckless driving. Then again, it was definitely past most people’s bedtime. 

\----

You heard a knock on your door, before it opened up on its own and it freaked you out for a moment, doors shouldn't open on their own. Was your house haunted?

Soon enough, you saw Leon's unmistakable hair and half of his face peek out from behind the door, as if he were the one entering a haunted house and you're the spooky ghost staring at him. For now, you had no idea what happened to that text. You thought it reached its intended recipient, whoever that may have been. Most likely one of your close friends. 

“Y/n are you drunk again?..” You giggled like a child upon hearing his voice. What a welcome surprise this evening. 

“I know what you are, but what am I?” He shook his head, and you felt enthralled by his ashy, shiny locks bouncing around, cascading that kissable face of his. 

“Yeah, you're shitfaced alright.”  
Leon let himself in, and threw his car keys on your counter and slipped his shoes and jacket off, before sitting down next to you, making the couch cushions bob up and down, and he laid one of his arms across the top of the couch, almost laying around your shoulder but not touching you. 

He immediately saw the culprit too; a half empty bottle of hard liquor. He'd come up with an excuse to take a sip too, in a moment. He already figured that he'll have to spend the night here anyway, just like before. 

“What’re you doing ‘ere?” your speech was a bit sloppy but not quite slurred. He pulled out his phone and showed you the text on his phone with a sly look on his face. 

You immediately remembered that text now, on second thought. How did your dumb ass manage to send it to him of all people?!

“Fuck… I'm sorry. I had too much to drink.” your laughing turned into snorting and you'd give no further details. And that was it. Your entire explanation. You were too drunk to feel any shame right now. Leon smiled slightly before wiping that grin off his face. He was to be stern with you as he steadied you with his hands on your shoulders. To him this really wasn't a laughing matter, then again he was taking himself way too seriously. 

He looked you in the eyes and if he looked any longer, he could have scared you sober. “So who was that text meant for, y/n?” He asked quietly. 

“I’unno. Claire or Chris or Rebecca maybe.”   
“You talk to them about this kind of stuff?!” He raised a brow along with his voice but figured it's for the best he doesn't actually find out, and let out a sigh. 

“Nevermind, I actually don't want to know that one.” He glanced back at you, and felt an odd sense of responsibility for you. You were wearing an oversized shirt and panties. He could tell you're not even wearing a bra. Your hair was a mess and your eyes looked tired, with bags underneath them, and he could barely make out some tears streaked down your cheeks from what little makeup you may have had on. Had you been sober you'd never want him to see you like this. 

Leon mustered another smile for you. He thought you do have some special charm, all fucked up and transparent like this. 

“You're a mess. But I'll take care of that mess.” And with that, he swiped the bottle from your coffee table and took a generous sip from whatever shit you've been drinking tonight. That wasn't a generous sip, nor was it a smart decision. He emptied the bottle, and teased you by waving it around in the air just high enough to be out of your reach for being so short. 

“I din’ ask you to take care o’ me.”  
“Well now you're stuck with me, no more booze to get drunk off. You should get to bed.”  
“Only ‘f’you come with me.” 

Leon rolled his eyes, but figured he should expect no less of you right now. The first time he had to babysit you, you weren't nearly as forward and desperate as tonight, not to mention you hadn’t sent a text like that.

“You know what I was about to do before you sent that? You interrupted me. And I don't like interruptions,” He teased. He may have overdone the sarcastic tone just to make sure you don't interpret this as scolding. 

“Were you on the toilet?” You snickered and laughed out loud and fell towards his arms where he caught you. You were still snorting and laughing at your own joke. 

While the stuff in that bottle sure was volatile, he could hold his liquor much much better than you simply due to his sheer size and his own experience and tolerance. He was going to be a bit wobbly on his feet at worst. But his mental state would remain unchanged. 

“Nah, was actually about to jack off. And reading that text made that a lot harder.”  
“It made you a lot harder huh?”  
He blushed for a moment, trying to remember that he should constrain himself but damn, that was hard. He’s not an idiot, people just don’t suddenly decide they like a person only when they’re drunk. If you did like him that much, it would explain an awful lot.

“Y/n, are you kidding me right now?” He clenched his jaw and was getting pretty frustrated at himself for letting himself play along with this bullshit, but it was difficult not to.   
“You mean like, the text?”  
“Yeah, the text if you can call it one. Did you mean it?”

You laughed to yourself but felt nervous about owning up to meaning what you said. “Uh, well what would y’say if I said I was serious?”  
“I'd give it to you.”  
“Really?”  
“When you're sober.”  
“Fuck you Leon!” 

He grinned and laughed at your childish frustration when he said he will not grant you that wish unless you're sober, and he felt sad because maybe you'll have changed your mind when you sober up and will think he is disgusting and old. And he really didn't want to exploit you. He had no real gauge on this pining, if it was not one sided or not, or alcohol induced or not. 

“I'll still be here in the morning. See how you feel about it then, hm?” He patted your back and gave you another cheeky look. But that just further fueled your short stubborn temper.

You jerked away from him and pouted before planting your elbows on your knees, leaving white indentations on the skin as you let your head weight rest on your hands. 

“F-... Fuck’s sake Leon, I've been trying for ages and you just shoot me down; ‘the fuck am I ‘posed to do besides drink and try to forget it while you run off with... And then you keep acting like you care about me an’ keep rubbing it in. You… I…” You had to pause to take a deep breath, and cut off your speech there.

Leon swallowed hard; he realized now that he's terribly fucked something up. Before he could try to calm you down, you blurted out, “Just leave. You're a fucking jerk. I know you have hot a date with that stupid Asian milf.”

While you were referring to Ada, you didn’t know what happened to her, and that Leon hasn’t seen her in years, and the fact that she’s likely gone. Both Adas.

So, your temper tantrum was fairly stupid, but the context and the scale of built up pressure and grief weighing on you from your feelings were overwhelming even in your inebriated state, which was also exactly why you got wasted this particular evening.

He heard your voice shaking as if you were about to cry, but his gut feeling told him to try and calm you down and settle the misunderstanding instead of leaving. Just the fact that you didn’t let go of things that were years in the past, did give him a taste for how strongly you must feel, even though you didn’t even know him when that happened. Hearing about it was enough, and seeing his coworkers constantly tease him about her.

And he’s been bottling that sort of stuff up himself, it’s not necessarily seen as normal or appropriate for someone his age to be interested in you. But he was, and he wasn’t so painfully aware of it for months until now. He felt like he should be happy, you clearly like each other. But there's still a misunderstanding to settle that's getting in the way. 

Leon sucks at conflict management, though.   
“Do you mean Ada?”  
Just hearing that name made your rage boil over. You furrowed your brows and gave him a sour look.

“I tol’ you to stop fucking rubbing it in. Go back home to Mrs. Asian-blow-up-doll-Kennedy to get your dick sucked.”

Well, hearing the spitefulness in your voice certainly hurt. But he'd have to de-escalate this somehow. Leon took a deep breath and tried to give you a sincere look that would hopefully signal to you that he's trying his best to help you understand.

“I haven't seen her in like 7 years. She's been arrested and charged with so much crap I couldn’t even tell you.” The look on your face was priceless.

“Why'd nobody tell me that?”  
“You never knew her.”  
“Still.”  
“She had to be put under witsec or something, and now she's held by the government or something. She'd get stabbed or attacked in prison otherwise.”  
You chuckled triumphantly, and crossed your arms. “Too bad, Wish they'd stab her. Stupid blow up doll looking bitch.”

For not ever having met her, you had a good estimate of what she looked like aside from your exaggerations in certain areas. Maybe in your mind she had huge tits, a huge ass and a doll face a thousand times prettier than yours because it sure sounded like that was the case when you listened to your coworkers comments. 

Leon took another deep breath and threw his head back, thinking of something appropriate for your ears to say. He did roll his eyes somewhat playfully though. 

“My point is, she's been gone. Years before you even started working here.” You pondered for a moment, you were too drunk to be angry about wasting months being spiteful about this woman. Instead you were worried about what he must think of you now. 

You rubbed your eyes, as if you were tired, pressing down so hard that your vision was blurred and your eyes red when you opened them. There was an awkward silence between you two. You nervously looked at him, but he looked pretty at ease compared to you.

He must just think you're a naive, moody stupid little girl, you told yourself. Nothing else. He probably doesn’t even like you now that you’ve said that about Ada. He was still sitting next to you on your couch, no longer holding on to you though. 

There really was no way to address the elephant in the room or further the conversation without outing himself and his own feelings for you, he pretty much had to now. It was clear to him why Ada upset you, and you figured it’s clear as day already that you had a thing for him if that text didn’t make it clear enough.

After some hesitation, he turned to face you again and took your hands before speaking quietly. “Look, I came here because one, I know you’re up to no good when you’re drunk, and second, believe it or not, I do like you a lot.” 

Your body arched backwards a bit, as if his words just smacked you across the face but he kept a firm, yet not uncomfortable grip on your hands as you slowly blinked at him. For a moment you wanted to take this as a confession of sorts but figured no, you’re drunk out of your ass, and this can’t be true. 

“Well I’d better fucking hope so ‘cause you call yourself my friend.”  
He nervously chuckled and looked away for a few seconds, before looking back at you, lips pressed into a thin line. “No, not like that.” 

You raised a brow. “Well? Speak up Kennedy.”   
“That uh… text.”   
“What about that stupid god damn text? It’s not that deep.”  
“Yeah I know. But I… I had no idea you must feel that way.”  
“It’s not rocket stuff.”  
“You mean rocket science?”  
“Nobody asked for your opinion,” you scoffed, trying to pull your hands and body away from him, but he pulled harder and brought you in a lot closer so he could place his hand on the side of your face. He didn’t like having to be forcible with this, but you’d likely keep protesting otherwise. 

“Y/n.”

For a moment he was taken aback by how warm your skin was, then again you were probably brimming with rage. Your eyes looked strained giving him that shocked look, pupils shrunken. He almost forgot what he was going to do but there’s no going back now. His stomach fluttered for the first time since high school when he had some stupid crush on someone. 

Now, before he could let any doubts or nervousness get the better at him he went ahead and kissed you on your lips, nothing wild or heated. He was going to pull back after a moment, but he felt your weight toppling him over on the couch, and your arms latching around his neck with so much force he wouldn’t have ever reckoned you had in you, especially for being inebriated. 

You reciprocated his gesture and finished what he started. You didn’t even think. You just responded to what happened. And against better judgement he went along with it. He’s been drunk so many times in his life, that he took the liberty to assume that it’s okay to do this with you and that he’s fairly certain he’s not crossing any lines or taking advantage of you. 

As much as he would love to sleep with you now as you suggested with that text, he knew where to draw the line; he didn’t think it’s not what you wanted but he didn’t want you to potentially not remember this. A kiss however, he was willing to risk it and reiterate if needed in the morning. He figured you’d probably get a bit out of hand for now though. 

You toppled over him, and his shoulders sank into the cushions. You ran one of your hands up his shirt, across his abs and let out an excited whimper, if it can be classified as a specific noise at all. 

Leon noticed you smiling against his lips, and as much as he wanted to slip his hand up your shirt seeing as you were not wearing a bra, he tried to resist. Instead he grabbed your hips, dangerously close to your bare behind because you weren’t wearing pants. Just a baggy, long t-shirt and a thong.

Next, your hands fell into his lap where you felt his hardon through his sweatpants. It was so delightfully obvious. Leon let out an awkward squeaking noise and jolted upwards when you grabbed it, and let go of your lips. He gently grabbed your hand and pulled it away, placing it back under his shirt, since you seemed to like it there as well. 

“Hey missy, let’s not get too carried away. You’re still tipsy at best.”

You grumbled something that he couldn’t make out, before backing off and laying down on his chest like he was your personal mattress and not caring that you’ve immobilized him. Leon settled to rest his hands across your back, lightly rubbing your shoulders. 

“There you go,” he said softly. “Get some sleep.” 

Your body shuffled around and Leon put his legs up on the couch, and when you finally settled you felt his cock brushing against your core and you couldn’t help but to lazily wobble your hips back and forth, side to side. While you couldn’t see it, Leon rolled his eyes and smiled widely. You were chuckling against his chest, thinking you’re so slick and sneaky for doing this. Truthfully he expected it, and didn’t stop you. 

He could put up with some teasing. Sure, it may ruin his boxers but he can deal with it.  
He knew he could control his actions, and he knew you weren’t that ravenous or aggressive, and most likely just trying to get a rise out of him. 

Carefully, and very gently he gave your ass a playful smack, if you could call it a smack at all, before running his other hand through your hair. “Be a good girl and wait for tomorrow for that, okay?” 

Fair enough. How could you protest when he asked you so nicely?

For a while you just laid there as he combed through your hair with his fingers, pretty much brushing out the mess you made of it. After that he continued to lightly massage your head while slowly dozing off himself. Ironically you woke him up when he fell asleep and stopped moving his hands, making a protesting noise. 

He rubbed his eyes and yawned, noting that his hand smelled like your shampoo now. “Let’s get you into bed, sweetheart.” Again, he gave your ass a very gentle squeeze and some pats before urging you to get up so he could carry you to bed. You smiled to yourself when you realized what he just called you, still in his arms. 

Just like he did before, he tucked you in and got you a glass of water. How sweet. This time he took his sweatpants off and threw his shirt in the same general direction before getting into bed with you, and pulling you atop his chest again before wrapping his arms around you, and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You're going to be hungover as fuck,” he whispered into your ear to tease you just a little bit more before dozing off. 


End file.
